Diary of an Angry Pregnant Woman
by Collegekid2006
Summary: Karen Vick's Journal
1. Chapter 1

**June 9**

Interim Chief Vick.

They put it on my door.

I've been waiting for this chance for ten years, and they put _that_ on my door.

_Interim_ Chief Vick.

As in, "We'll let you be Chief…but only until we find someone with a Y chromosome to replace you. Then you're out on your butt."

They actually asked me if I thought I could handle the job.

_Handle it._

Because being pregnant means I'll suddenly lose all ability to think and reason.

Because being pregnant means I'll suddenly have no idea how to run a station.

Because being pregnant means I'll suddenly burst into tears every time I have to arrest someone.

God, I hate men sometimes.

**June 10**

It's been one day.

One day.

And they're already on me about closing some of these cases the former Chief let hang around for too long.

They didn't come right out and say it, but the implication was pretty clear.

The department starts closing cases, or I'm out on my butt, whether they've found a Y Chromosome-blessed replacement for me or not.

It's a darn good thing for them being pregnant doesn't mean I'll suddenly start ripping people's heads off at random.

Because if that day ever comes…they're first on my list.

Actually, Carlton Lassiter's not far from the top of that list, either.

**June 12**

I need a miracle.

I spent all morning throwing up, and then I had to hold some Rookie's hands while they closed their first cases. And then I had to fight with Carlton…again…and remind him… again…that I don't run things the same way they've always been run around here.

I'm not his old mentor.

He'll have to accept that eventually.

He'll have to do things my way eventually.

Of course, I am only the _Interim_ Chief.

So, maybe he won't.

Not at this rate.

They're still breathing down my neck about closing these cases.

Which is why I need a miracle.

I need help.

Competent help.

At this point, I'd just settle for competence.


	2. Chapter 2

**June 13**

My door might say Interim Chief Vick, but now my desk says Chief.

My husband made me a nameplate in his workshop.

Chief Karen Vick.

It was just what I needed to get me through the day today.

I don't know how he knew…

I don't think my constant complaining over the last few days could have tipped him off that was I upset at all…

I prefer to think he's just intuitive.

**June 14**

As of today, all other cases are officially on the back burner.

The McCallum kidnapping is now top priority.

And guess whose department is taking the lead.

I'm sure the fact that McCallum is a personal friend of both the Mayor and the DA and will be scrutinizing every move I make has nothing to do with them assigning it to my precinct.

If I screw this up…

If Carlton screws this up or steps on the wrong toes this time…

If _anyone_ so much as makes a single misstep…

It's on me.

I'm done.

It was a _really_ bad morning to have an ultrasound scheduled.

**June 15**

I may have found my miracle.

At least, I may have found a facsimile of one.

And it came from a place I never would have thought to look.

A psychic.

Well, alleged psychic.

And even _alleged_ is being generous at this point.

But he did call in a tip that closed one of those cases they were breathing down my neck about.

And he solved another case while he was at the station…I still don't know how he did that one…

And he's the son of an old friend.

An old friend who was one of the best cops I ever knew.

If this kid is half as sharp as his father was…and something tells me is…psychic or not, he'll be more help than I've had since I started here.

This is how desperate I've become. I've asked for help from a smart-aleck kid who may or may not be psychic just because something about him reminds me of his father.

Well, that and because after only ten minutes in interrogation, he had Carlton more rattled than I've ever seen him.

Anyone who can do that is okay by me.


	3. Chapter 3

**June 18 **

Can a psychic, a _real_ psychic, be surprised?

Seems like that shouldn't happen.

And yet, when we found Candem McCallum's body today…Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic seemed just as surprised as everyone else.

Even though he led us there.

Seems like a real psychic should've seen that one coming.

You'd think a dead body would set off some extrasensory bells and whistles.

But then again, he _did_lead us there…

So that's something…a point in the psychic column, at least…

Though I'm pretty sure his partner threw up all over my crime scene when he saw the body.

At least, he ran screaming from the room.

And _someone_ threw up in the woods.

I guess the Y chromosome doesn't negate the squeamish gene.

**June 19 **

Why does the room have to be pink?

Where is it written that because a baby is a girl, she needs a pink room?

I can't stand pink.

I hate pink.

My baby is not going to have a pink room.

So, why is Bill painting it pink?

And don't get me started on the horrible list of names he's trying to push on me.

I don't care if it was his grandmother's name, my child will not be named Mabel.

**June 20 **

Oh.

So this is why Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic reminded me of his father.

He's obsessive, stubborn, and won't listen when someone tells him a case is closed.

I forgot about that…

He's insisting there's more the McCallum murder, even though I've told him to drop it.

Just someone else trying to walk all over me.

Just someone else who thinks I'll fold.

Not going to happen.

You'd think a psychic would know that…

**June 21 **

I forgot how much I hate Spencer men.

Another way Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic is like his father.

Not a good way.

Once they say there's something fishy about a case, I can't sleep.

I start obsessing about it, too.

Because, somehow, I know they're always right.

Psychic or not…they're always right.

At least, Henry always was…

We'll have to see about Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic.

I never should have let him through the door.

I may never sleep again.

And if I don't sleep, Bill doesn't sleep.

Which means Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic has two people who want to kill him now.

**June 22 **

Damn it.

He was right.

I don't know how he was right….but he was right.

There was more to the case.

A lot more.

A heck of a lot more.

Enough more that not one person has called me all day to tell me to wrap up some more cases or my butt is out on the street.

I don't know how he did it, but maybe Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic should stick around a little longer…

I think he's my miracle.


	4. Chapter 4

**June 23 **

The house is always so quiet when Bill's away.

You'd think I'd get used to him being gone all time. He's always had to travel a lot for his job.

But somehow…I've never gotten used to it.

Just like he's never really gotten used to me being a cop.

Is it weird for a Police Chief, even just an interim one, to sleep with her light on?

**June 24 **

He was lying about something.

I know he was.

He's never been a good liar.

Henry is just too honest to be a good liar.

The only question is…what was he lying _about_?

I asked him point-blank about his son today. He confirmed he has psychic abilities. He didn't even blink at the question. He just said yes.

I pried deeper.

I had to.

It's my butt on the line.

If Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic turns out to be a pulling a scam and I fell for it…

That would be all the reason they would need.

I'd be out on my butt before they could even say "Gross Incompetence".

And, actually…they'd be right. This time.

He answered every question I threw at him without hesitation. He would have passed a polygraph, I'm sure of it.

But his story didn't match Shawn's at all.

They weren't even close on the details.

That would make Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic the worst scam-artist ever. He didn't even bother getting his story straight with the people covering for him.

Somehow…I can't believe he's that incompetent.

And Henry is no co-conspirator.

Certainly not for a fake psychic.

He's always hated psychics. I can't tell you how many times I saw him take on some two-bit con-artist when he was on the force.

And yet, I know he was lying about something…

Just something about his eyes…

Maybe Shawn was right.

Maybe he just hates acknowledging his son's gifts. He certainly never mentioned them.

Maybe that's it…

The only thing I know for sure is that he meant it when he told me; "Karen, he won't let you down."

Coming from him, that's enough.

For now.


	5. Chapter 5

**June 26 **

When Bill left on his business trip, the baby's room was pink.

When he got back, it was yellow.

He didn't see that one coming.

Which means there's a good chance he won't see the new crib sheets that don't have stupid pink bows on them coming, either…

**June 27 **

How does he do it?

Seriously.

How does Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic do it?

How does he take one look at a suspect and immediately know whether or not they're guilty?

How does he solve a case I can't even touch with just one cursory glance at a file?

And how does he get under Carlton's skin without even saying a word?

And why does it always make me want to laugh when he does?

**June 29 **

Bill still wants a pink room.

He's not caving on that.

I still don't want a pink room.

I'm not caving, either.

So, we're going with duckie wallpaper.

We both hate duckies.

And we both hate wallpaper.

**June 30 **

I don't need to have this baby now.

After this week, I feel like I already have two of them.

Except it's worse than having two babies, because what I actually have is two grown men who can't be in the same room with each other for more than two seconds without snarking, bickering or fighting.

Honestly.

They're just two children who happen to have access to handcuffs and guns.

Carlton's too stubborn to admit that Shawn's single-handedly cracked at least five cases since he's been around and Shawn…apparently likes to push Carlton's buttons just for the fun of it.

And they both like to drag me into their stupid little territory dispute.

All I can say is they had better work this out soon because they're not the only ones with access to handcuffs and guns.

And I'm the one with the handcuff keys.


	6. Chapter 6

**July 2**

Carlton told me today that if I put him on another case with, as he put it, "that deranged little weasel", he'd quit.

He's now working three cases with "that deranged little weasel".

Two murders and an arson. And two of those cases don't even really require the help of "that deranged little weasel", truth be told. Carlton could easily handle them on his own.

But that's not the point.

The point is that until they fire me, which could be any day, this is still my station and my Head Detective will learn to play nice with whomever I tell him to.

I think he's finally starting to get the idea.

He's scowling and muttering under his breath even more than usual, but he hasn't quit on me yet.

He won't quit.

And he's learning to play nice.

Well, nice for him…

**July 3**

So far, they've always been subtle about letting me know where I stand.

Subtle like putting Interim Chief Vick on my door.

Subtle like telling me to close some of the precinct's cold cases because 'that's what ensures a long career in the SBPD'.

Subtle like asking me how I feel or how much time I think I'll need time off after the baby comes…

But today, they crossed the line from not-so-subtle subtly into all-out war.

They actually started interviewing candidates for my job.

Interviewing internal candidates.

My colleagues. My friends. People I've known for years.

They didn't even bother telling me. The only reason I know is because I happened to see a memo on Carlton's desk, asking him to submit a resume for the position.

He doesn't know I saw it.

He also doesn't know I watched him crumble it up and toss it in the trash can without even a second glance.

Not that this had anything to do with my pulling Shawn off two of the three cases they were working together.

**July 7**

The name.

It all comes down to the name.

What do we name the baby?

More importantly, _who_ gets to name the baby?

Someone has to win on this one. There can't be a duckie wallpaper compromise, and we'll never agree on a name. There hasn't been a single one in any baby book or on any baby website that we've both liked.

So, someone has to get to choose the first name.

And neither of us wants to get stuck picking the middle name.

Everyone hates their middle name.

**July 10**

This might finally be it.

This may give them their cause to toss me out on my butt.

I just don't know what to do.

It's the strangest, most baffling murder I've ever seen, and if I can't close it soon…

I'm done.

I know it.

They've been waiting for me to screw up, and this time I just might.

I can't screw up a murdered cop case.

I can't.

But we don't have a lead.

Not a single lead.

We don't even have a murder weapon or a cause of death for certain, at least not until the autopsy comes back.

But it was definitely murder.

That much we know.

It had to be murder.

Why else would an otherwise empty, locked apartment be completely wiped free of fingerprints?

Even Shawn can't get any psychic visions on this one, except that it was definitely murder.

I've already gotten two calls about this case today, telling me to close it fast.

If I don't come up with some answers soon…


	7. Chapter 7

**July 11**

Who the heck is Ted Klein?

I've never worked with him.

I've never even heard of him.

So why did they suddenly send him over to _my_ precinct to head-up _my_ investigation? ("Just to make sure there are no oversights on such a high-profile case," they said.)

And why do I suddenly have the sinking feeling that my door isn't going to say Interim Chief Vick for much longer?

Chief Ted Klein…it doesn't even sound right. Everyone knows you don't put three monosyllabic names right next to each other. You have to throw in at least one polysyllabic name, just to break things up.

At least, that's what all the baby name books say.

Of course, if he goes with Chief _Theodore_ Klein…

Nope. Chief Karen Vick still sounds better.

Heck, even Interim Chief Karen Vick sounds better. At least it isn't monosyllabic.

Stupid Y-chromosome.

**July 12**

He is either the most thorough investigator I have ever seen, or he thinks I am a complete moron.

Or he's checking everything out looking for something I missed to give them cause to let me go so he can step in and be the hero.

Whatever it is, Future Chief Monosyllable spent all day going over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb.

And he practically moved into my office. He even moved my pregnancy chair.

That was a mistake.

He's only been here for three days.

Three days!

And the entire precinct is already scared of the guy. No one made a move on the case today without running it by him.

Except Carlton.

When the forensics report came back, he gave me a copy first.

"Aren't you going to give it to Klein?" I almost snapped, maybe taking everything out on him.

Just a little.

He just shrugged.

"Eventually."

**July 13**

Rock, paper, scissors is not a good way to decide who gets to name a baby, as it turns out.

I still say a rock can beat a piece of paper.

It's a rock.

And a piece of paper.

I told Bill I'd chuck both at his head and see which did more damage.

He admitted the rock would win that one.

We need a Plan B.


	8. Chapter 8

**July 15 **

Flipping a coin has also officially been ruled out as a way to decide who gets to name the baby.

I still say you're not supposed to catch the coin in your hand and flip it onto your wrist.

You're just supposed to flip it, step back, and let it hit the floor.

That's just how you do it.

That's just fair.

Bill is such a cheater.

I hope the baby doesn't inherit his cheater genes.

Plus, he always calls heads.

_Always. _

I don't know why, but that bugs me.

What does he have against tails, anyway?

**July 17**

According to the coroner's report (which, as far as I know, Carlton still hasn't given to Future Chief Monosyllable) it was definitely murder.

Poison, to be exact.

Probably in his coffee, which was the only thing in his stomach at the time of death.

Except there wasn't any coffee found anywhere near the body, or in the apartment at all.

Not even a take-out cup.

I went back and looked it over myself today.

I even had Shawn go back to see if could get any psychic vibrations or whatever it is he does (do coffee beans have psychic vibrations?)

Still nothing.

Another dead end.

Which is actually perfect, because nothing else in this case makes any sense. Why should the cause of death be any different?

At least Chief Monosyllable doesn't seem to have made any progress, either.

**July 18 **

Now he's taking it too far.

This is war.

Bill refused to kill the spider in the bathroom before he left on his business trip this weekend unless I caved and said he could name the baby.

Which, of course, I wouldn't do.

So, the spider lives.

I'm using the downstairs bathroom for now.

And when Bill gets back, he's in for a surprise.

I know how to win this one. It's so obvious, I can't believe I missed it.

Actually, it was Shawn who pointed it out to me.

"Why don't you just call it?" he asked today.

"'Call it'?" I repeated.

"Sure," he shrugged. "Like shotgun. Just call it… 'baby-namer!'…how could he argue with that?"

"Because we're not six." I told him.

Of course, it was too stupid an idea to even consider.

But then I thought about it…

Why the heck not?

When he comes back, I'm calling it.

Baby-namer.

How _can_ he argue with it?

**July 19 **

Why did I have to have a psychic on the payroll?

I shouldn't have listened to Henry.

I should have just walked away when I had the chance…

Now I'm stuck.

Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic had a psychic vision about the case today.

A bad one.

I'm still not sure what I'm going to do about it.

What the heck do you do when a psychic tells you the killer is the cop who is trying to take your job?


	9. Chapter 9

**July 20**

I still don't know what I'm going to do. I didn't say anything about it today until I had a chance to look at the evidence myself and I was sure Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic was right.

Now I'm sure.

He's right.

But I still don't know what I'm going to do.

In his psychic vision…or whatever the heck it is he has…he said he kept seeing a little black book with the letter K.

And E.

And Q.

Now just try to picture him contorting his body into an E, a Q and a K like a cheerleader as he's telling me this, and you have an idea what I have to deal with when Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic has a psychic vision…

Anyway, he was right about the book. There was a black leather-bound address book in the victim's apartment.

In the K section was Ted Klein.

I looked into it and the victim and Chief Monosyllable worked together at the same precinct for a while. It also turns out that the victim was something of an IAB snitch who was about to name names in some very big investigations.

Investigations in which the name Ted Klein has been mentioned on more than one occasion.

Of course, just because Chief Monosyllable happened to know the victim doesn't mean he's a killer.

But Shawn also said there was something missing from the scene. Something only the killer would have taken.

I looked the photos over and walked through myself.

And he was right.

Something was missing.

The victim's cell phone.

It was on the counter in the crime scene photos, but when I went back it was gone. And it had never been checked into evidence.

The only person who could have taken it is Chief Monosyllable.

He's the only one who was at the scene alone.

Once I realized it was gone, I checked the records. We had already run the LUDs on the landline, but not on the cell phone. As it turned out, we should have run them earlier.

The last call the victim ever received was on the cell phone, and it was from Chief Monosyllable. Just a few hours before he died.

So, that's it.

Chief Monosyllable did it.

But what do I do now?

I'm barely hanging onto my job as it is, and if I bust the Department's new golden boy for murder…

I may not have to worry about being an interim Chief anymore.

**July 21**

I finally decided what to do.

On some level, I've know all along what I had to do. I just finally worked up my nerve today.

I had to bust Chief Monosyllable.

When I told Carlton, he actually seemed happy to find out Klein was a murderer.

Well, happy for Carlton.

But he wouldn't let me make the bust. He insisted on doing it himself.

At first, I wouldn't let him. But then I realized he was right.

They can't touch him.

He's not interim Head Detective.

He's not going anywhere.

Plus, I think he's secretly wanted to arrest Chief Monosyllable since day one.

**July 22**

Well, I did it.

I called Baby-Namer.

And, like I thought, Bill couldn't argue with me. After all, I called it.

It's mine.

Baby-namer.

Now the only problem is that I can't figure out which name I like…

It's a big decision.

But at least it's my decision now.

**July 23**

They're still pissed about Carlton busting their golden boy. I was right that they can't touch him, but they can transfer his partner, who happens to be one of the only other women in the precinct.

And who, if Mr. Shawn Spencer the Psychic is right, also happens to be Carlton's girlfriend.

So, that's what they did.

They transferred her.

They killed two birds with one stone. They got Carlton, and now I'm back to being the only female cop in this place.

Damn, they're good.

**July 24**

Now that I'm officially the Baby-Namer, I'm having trouble actually deciding on a name.

I just can't pick one.

There are at least fifty I like, especially for a girl.

I told Bill I'm having trouble.

"You know what name I've always liked for a girl?" he told me. "Iris."

Iris…

That's one I never considered.

I have to admit, I don't hate it.

I even kind of like it…

**July 25**

I hired a new detective today to be Carlton's partner.

I may still just be Interim Chief Vick, but I am sure as heck not going to be the woman cop in this precinct.

She's a transfer from Miami.

O'Hara.

A female detective.

That should piss them off.

And that's fine with me.


End file.
